When Gray is Okay

I posted this photo on my Facebook today with the caption, “Seriously? No, really, I’m asking.”

On the bottom shelf of the hair care products (because I guess it IS hair care) at our neighborhood Winners, in two fun shades (Love Betty (Red) and Fun Betty (Hot Pink) and one oh-so-practical shade (Brown Betty) because coloring down there is just the most practical thing I’ve ever heard of. Because it’s not enough to expect women to worry obsessively about the amount of hair down there but we should worry about whether or not the hair down there is also a fun color?

Seriously? No, really, I’m asking.

I wasn’t taking it very seriously at first – and spent far too much time yesterday wracking my brain trying to think who could be the lucky recipient of a box of Love Betty as a gag gift (they’re on clearance, for $2 I might go buy them all and have the perfect gift always on hand!) and then I spent not very long trying to convince one of the girls (she’s blonde) at the gym to buy a box of Fun Betty for when she goes into labour in December because wouldn’t that be a fun (and very pink) surprise for the L&D nurses? And I say not very long trying to convince her because the words were barely out of my mouth when she said, “I’ll do it!” Because Fun Betty will be a nice compliment to her piercing.

Okay…so maybe hair color for down there makes sense for some people. People more exciting than me because the thought of putting any kind of chemical that may or may not contain bleach down there is NOT my idea of fun.

And then I thought about it seriously and remembered a conversation I had with an older girlfriend who described finding gray hair down there as being “traumatizing”. And I laughed when she said it, partly because I hadn’t really considered that we grow old down there too but also because I didn’t think it’d be THAT traumatizing (and really, it’s not, especially if you have a good pair of tweezers, or better yet, a good esthetician).

So that line of thinking got me thinking further that okay, maybe, with the exception of Fun Betty, maybe Love Betty and Brown Betty serve a practical purpose. (By the way, what would blonde be called? Would they be as boring as they were with Brown Betty and call it Blonde Betty? Or Busy Betty? Or, because everyone knows that blondes are superior, maybe they’d cut to the chase and call it what it is, Sexy Betty or Beautiful Betty or Yummy Betty, or…My sarcasm here is not going unnoticed, is it? Because if you think I’m serious, if you think anything really about this post is serious, then that’s tragic. Except for the good tweezers/esthetician part, that remains true). Why am I thinking of one of my favorite sayings right now that says “Blondes have more fun but brunettes can read”?

And I just suddenly realized that I don’t even know if you CAN be blonde done there because I’ve never, ever been attracted to a blond guy, not enough to investigate done there, so I’m just ASSUMING you can be, can’t you? Yes, I’m THAT naive.

Google tells me that yes, you can be blonde down there because Betty Beauty’s website does carry a blonde dye called…wait for it…Blonde Betty. Boring! Apparently Sexy Betty is reserved for purple and Malibu Betty is for aqua. Why do I suddenly have a vision in my head of barbie dolls with their crotches dyed turquoise?

“Our Award Winning betty™ products are specially formulated color dyes for the hair down there. In just a few years, we have hundreds of thousands of happy customers using betty to naturally match their hair above, cover gray or just for fun! Whether you’re a blonde (be a true blonde now!), radiant auburn, rich brunette, raven black or want to try hot pink for fun, our easy to use no-drip formula gives you the perfect finishing touch. Betty is bringing hair back!”

Oh Betty!

Okay, but seriously. And maybe I don’t quite get this because I’m not old enough to really be bothered by the color of “the hair down there” (insert ominous piano chord here) and so I gladly admit to a bit of ignorance in this line of thinking but, I don’t know. I’m guessing that if you’re gray down there, there are OTHER parts of your body that are also betraying your age. Isn’t there? Like your neck, or your hands or your boobs or those lovely little creases in the corners of your eyes? And unless your Demi Moore and you’re married to Ashton Kutcher, I’m guessing that the man you’ve invited into your bed knows how old you are. He should, shouldn’t he?

I just don’t know. Gray’s okay. It has to be, because I’m not buying hair dye, even it’s 2 bucks, and coloring the hair down there. And I have to say, if you’re with a dude and he’s lucky enough to be in your bed, and you’re lucky enough that he’s in a position to get a close up look at the color of things, I would think the last thing you want him to be commenting on is your gray hair. Besides, if it’s bright enough down there that he can even NOTICE a few gray hairs, I’m thinking you’ve got your gynecologist confused with your boyfriend. Either that or if he needs to shine a light down there, there’s more to be worried about then the color of the hair down there.

Oh Betty! Seriously?

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